Wrestling Werewolves
by Derbs92
Summary: More Chlerek cheese. I'm a big fan of cheese. Sorry. :


**I don't own Darkest Powers.**

We were sitting around the hotel room watching reruns of Nathan's Annual Hot Dog eating contest. After all the running that we'd been doing, we were happiest being bored. Watching bad daytime cable was always good for a laugh

Simon was spouting off about his newest theory. "Kobayashi is totally a werewolf. There's no way that guy can be a competitive eater and weigh 130 pounds it's not metablicky possible unless he's a werewolf. He ate fifty-eight hot dogs and the buns in ten minutes. He should look like a sumo wrestler."

"Metablickly?"

Simon shot Tori a dirty glare "It's a word"

"Metabolically" Derek supplied.

"Whatever, he's still a werewolf."

"Dog boy, could you eat that much?"

Derek grunted in response.

Tori looked at me expectantly "Translation?"

"I think he could eat that much, but over a couple of hours. Not that fast. Eww. Just watching them stuff it down their faces like that makes me want to puke."

"I think puke is the key word. He's not a werewolf, he's a bulimic." Tori supplied "Take it all in, but force it all out before your body starts to process it. I had a friend once who did the same thing to stay skinny. She could eat five boxes of Oreos all at once. Course her breath reeked all the time and her hair and teeth were nasty."

"That is gross"

Derek got up and started for the door. "As interesting as this conversation is, I think I'm going to try changing now. Chloe, do you want to come with me?" He asked me every time though I'd yet to turn him down.

"Of course." I held his hand as we left the hotel room and we wandered across the parking lot to the heavily wooded park across the street.

Derek had been practicing controlling the timing of his changes. It was like that other necessary body function. You choose when to go to the bathroom, but you can't go if you don't have to at all, and if you hold it too long, you're just going to wet yourself. When he first gets the feeling that a change is coming, he usually has a couple of days before it forces him to go through it.

The change got a little faster, but it never really got less painful. I can't imagine willingly putting yourself though it before you absolutely had to. Derek, however, was determined to master his changes. He wanted to know when they were happening and how long they lasted. The incidents with Liam and the Edison Group made him realize how exposed he could be.

The changes themselves may have not been easier, but the pre-change and aftermath both seemed to be better. We figured out the best time to change was after the first temperature spike - when he was well-rested, since the fevers weren't keeping him up at night. This also reduced the crabbiness (or at least the duration of it was shortened).

After he had changed, he wasn't exhausted anymore. It was almost like the change exhilarated him. His wolf was like a little puppy begging for attention. He once brought me a rabbit he'd killed. I guess it's the thought that counts?

After he turned back he was still … um … frisky.

It was off season at the park we were staying by. Nobody was around. We went in about a mile or so, and Derek did a smell/listen/look search of the area. Once he deemed it safe, he put a blanket he'd carried out on the ground for me to sit on, and then stripped down to his shorts. It was Simon's idea to get him some of those basketball warm-up pants that have snaps down the sides so you can rip them off right before you hit the court. Now we didn't have to worry about him hulking through all of his clothes. We cut them into shorts, and voila I could stay with him through his change. Tori called them his stripper pants.

The change went well. It gets a little shorter every time, and now he's down to about a half hour. Still, seeing anyone, much less someone you care about, in agony for a half hour isn't a picnic and I was happy when he completed it.

Derek did a couple of quick laps around the clearing we were in to stretch his muscles. Then he looked at me and lowered his shoulders and raised his haunches. Classic pounce mode. He gave a little "woof" and then waggled his tail. _Did I want to play?_

Pretend wrestling with a wolf is a lot like pretend wrestling with a dog, but no nipping -not even pretend. There's no way either of us wanted to take a chance. Mostly it was us trying to pin each other. He had every advantage: size, weight, strength. Well every advantage but one, there is no way he let me get hurt.

Most of his energy was expended trying to get the better of me, while being as gentle as possible. It's like playing with a little kid. You run to get away from them, and then run back if you get to far away. You pick them up and throw them around, tiring yourself, but in the end doing nothing but riling the kid up. I'd try to grab a leg and he'd head butt me until I fell over, but he didn't want to get close to me with his claws or his teeth. I really didn't have to worry about hurting him. I could grab and pinch and bury my face in his neck all I wanted. He once had me pinned by sitting on me, and he probably could have won, but I goosed him a good one, and he sprang up startled.

We horsed around for almost an hour and then he signaled he was ready to become human again.

Being a wolf sucked the modesty right out of him. After he changed back, he made a big deal about stretching and working out kinks before he put his shorts back on. I'm pretty sure he likes making me blush. I turned my head away. I have to admit, it was hard not to peek, but once the shorts were on, I looked my fill.

Forgetting about his super hearing, I murmured to myself, "My, what big muscles you have."

His lips quirked in a grin, "All the better to tempt you with, my dear."

I rolled my eyes and snorted – though it was totally true. "My, what a _big mouth _you have."

He waggled his eyebrows "All the better to kiss you with, my dear."

He started coming after me. Stalking me purposefully.

"My what big . . ." I backed away my eyes raking his body. So much to look at, so much to comment on. I settled for something innocuous "hands you have"

"All the better to catch you with, my dear"

He gave me a feral grin. The look in his eye was much more predatory than when he'd been a wolf. I gave a girly yelp and took off running. I didn't look back to see where he was. I just concentrated on keeping upright and going as fast as I could.

I got about twenty feet before he tackled me from the side. He wrapped me in a protective embrace and then took me down. We rolled about for a little bit, wrestling and laughing. He ended up on top, again. I didn't think a goose would get me out of it this time, but I reached back and grabbed his butt anyway.

He laughed again. "Nice try, Chloe. But now that I can use my hands and my mouth, don't even think you have a chance." He brought my hands up and pinned them above my head. Then leaned down and kissed me. I kissed him back with everything I had. He only pinned me for a minute before he let me go so we could both use our hands to do some exploring.

I nudged him with my hips and he took the hint and rolled over on his back with me on top of him. I continued to kiss him. After a minute I came up for air.

"One."

He looked pretty dazed. So I kissed him again.

"Two."

This time his look was a little more aware, if still confused. I kissed him again.

"Three - I won."

He smiled broadly. "Then why do I feel like I won?"

"Ok, we both won."


End file.
